


learn to burn low

by Sour_Idealist



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, burnish vs the experience of cold, genuinely there are no archive warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sour_Idealist/pseuds/Sour_Idealist
Summary: It's two months after the fall of Kray Foresight when Lio realizes he isn't going to survive this after all.Or: Lio isn't dying, but adjusting to life without fire comes with some learning experiences.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 9
Kudos: 283





	learn to burn low

It's two months after the fall of Kray Foresight when Lio realizes he isn't going to survive this after all.

The day begins the way days do, now, the way Lio has hesitantly started to call normal: the two of them in Galo's bed, with Galo's warmth pressed against his back and Galo's hair in Lio's face, sticking in every scruffy direction. Lio disentangles their limbs with painstaking care, Galo making discontented snuffling noises the whole time. Lio smooths back a tuft of Galo's hair while no one else can see them, yawns wide enough to realign his jaw, and turns towards the door to get the coffee started. Galo made it home late last night – long shift – and tumbled into bed half-asleep already, so Lio's still wearing boxers and a tattered T-shirt, soft around the edges. Decent enough not to scandalize the neighbors, and no one in this building is looking up to Lio anymore. Decent is all he needs.

He pushes the bedroom door open, and the coldness washes over him.

For a moment he can't move, pain crawling up his fingers, up his arms, up his spine through the heart of him, Cray's laughter in his ears; then he blinks, and the pain is gone, but the killing cold still remains. The hair rises from his skin; his teeth chatter once, spasmic, in his mouth. He breathes in, breathes out, and it only makes the cold worse, filling his lungs like poison gas.

Spine very straight, he makes for the phone book that Galo has on the kitchen counter, because he is in some ways a very old man.

There are three hospitals in their part of town. Which of them will take former Burnish – which of them will take the former leader of the Mad Burnish – whether any of them will be able to _help_ him –

“Ahhh, it's a good morning!”

That's Galo, saying what Galo says most mornings, stretching his arms above his head like he always does, blinking sleep away from the corners of his eyes. The sunlight catches the edges of his hair in a blue nimbus, lights up the gentle kind curve of Galo's mouth, and Lio's heart stutters twice in his chest.

“Galo,” he says, voice rough, and takes two quick steps towards him. It's the most important thing in the world, suddenly, to say: “Galo, whatever happens, it's an honor to have known you.” He reaches out, grabs Galo's hands in his own cold and shaking ones.

“Lio? What's going on?”

Lio closes his eyes; exhales; opens them. “I'm fading,” he says, sharp and fast. “Cold. Starting from my fingers, but it's all of me. I don't know why it's happening, with the Promare gone, but it is. I don't know how much longer I have left.”

“Well, I'm _not_ letting that happen.” Galo pulls one hand free, presses two fingers to Lio's neck. “Your pulse is good, strong and steady. A little fast, but that's all. Your breathing's steady, your pupils are fine. You don't feel cold when I touch you, or too hot, and you're focusing on me.” He cocks his head. “Lio, how long have you been a Burnish?”

“All my life,” Lio says. “Since I was born. My mother led Mad Burnish before me, and my father was one of us too. She said I was burning before I could walk.”

“Have you ever been cold before?”

“In the ice,” Lio says, flatly. “And in the Promatech engine. When else would I be?”

“So you've never gotten cold in the winter, because the Promare's spirit always kept you warm.”

“I...” Embarrassment warms the back of Lio's neck, which is a relief in and of itself. “That's all it is, then? It's ordinary to be cold?”

Galo shrugs. “Well, your vitals are good. And there's frost on the windows, you see?” He points, and indeed, there is, clusters of feathery crystal that Lio has glimpsed from a distance in the past, but never needed to think much about. “Are you in pain? Anything other than the cold?”

“No, just that.” Lio grimaces, fear fading into uncomfortable sheepishness. He shakes his shoulders into straightness, not unlike an offended cat, and –

“elp!”

– is interrupted by Galo pulling him close, gathering Lio's face close to his chest. “Here,” Galo says, kissing his hair. “I'll warm you up with my burning soul.”

“You sound ridiculous,” Lio mumbles, nose pressed against Galo's pectoral. The heat from Galo's body seeps into him, though, filling his chest. Alive. The cold isn't eternal after all, isn't spreading any further; he can still feel Galo's warmth against his fingers, still breathe the heat of him in. Alive indeed.

“I sound awesome,” Galo says, kissing his hair. He shifts, loosening one hand from Lio's back; there's the sound of clinking and a brief glub. “My burning soul and some coffee. You're going to be just fine.”

“Hmph.” Lio noses into Galo's chest. This is maybe not his finest moment, this cold morning, but – maybe Galo is right. Maybe he's going to work this out in time, after all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] learn to burn low](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262276) by [lunatique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunatique/pseuds/lunatique)




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